ephemeral
by awintea
Summary: hikarucentric // Nothing is forever - you know that now. Only fairy tales have happily ever afters. Even so, it doesn't make losing that hope feel any better // oneshot.


ephemeral

-

_for sonofon, the beta and the prompter_

-

When you're a child, you're told stories, whether you're a prince or a pauper, born on this side of the world or the other. They're fantastical stories - tales of heroes, princesses, witches, dragons, legends that happened once upon a time.

_You'__re lying on your bed, your other half beside you. Your eyes - two pairs of eyes - stare up at the heavens depicted on the canopy, tasteful stars glittering in the night sky. Words of glory and wonder wash over you as you immerse yourself into the world of the chronicle you are hearing - you laugh, you cry, you smile as you watch the story unfold, waiting for the story to reach its finish_.

They always end in that happily ever after that seems so ubiquitous in the world of bedtime stories nowadays, and you hold onto that concept. Happily ever after. Together forever. Endless, eternal, everlasting, perpetual.

_The endings are always the same, you declare, finally realising this after years of hearing the same sort of yarns every night. Kaoru laughs._

_'But that's what makes them nice,' he replies, his voice softer than yours as he stares off into a world that is guaranteed contentment. You shake your head and laugh as well,__ your laughter the innocent yet mischievous kind that often comes with children._

And then you grow up.

_The storybooks are gathering dust on the bookshelves in the library - neither you nor Kaoru will touch them, though of course it was your decision. You don't need a nanny to tell you stories before you sleep - that's for kids.__ You're older now, so you don't need stupid things like princesses and knights in shining armour. You know how the world works, so what's the point in pretending?_

Stories aren't all ending in happily ever after any more.

-

The door jingles as you walk in - you frown at the distastefully placed bell. At twenty-nine, you don't need a peal to announce your arrival. You are Hitachiin Hikaru, after all, heir to the Hitachiin company, and a renowned clothes designer of your own right. Your presence alone should be enough to draw all eyes to you.

And it is, of course - the stares that are on you are not the ones that people would give to some nobody who has just barged in. You smirk slightly before turning to the maître d'. A waiter is already standing next to him, ready to show you to your reserved table.

A quick glance shows you that your dining companion has already arrived.

'Hikaru!'

You can't help but grin - it has been a while. 'Tono,' you say, holding an arm out to stop him from hugging you violently in the middle of the restaurant. 'You look ridiculous.'

And he does. His suit is robin's egg blue and his tie is striped green and brown - it clashes like nothing else. You can tell just by looking who the designers were, and also that Tamaki picked his outfit out himself.

Even as Tamaki splutters indignantly (same old tono) you think inwardly that he looks amazing anyway.

Tamaki has that quality.

_The first time you open the doors to the Third Music Room, one handle in your hand and one handle in Kaoru's, the image you see shocks you. _

_Victorian men, dressed in clothes of the most expensive material, with canes made from wood that must have been imported. The clothes befit the wearers, who all have their own sort of exquisite beauty, be it more endearing, mysterious, or striking. The young man in the middle is familiar to you but unfamiliar, in his clothes that are too tight, as all Victorian clothes are, and the thought that flashes in your mind is this:_

_Ridiculous._

_But even as you think that you have to admire him, for daring to wear such outlandish garments in a society that is even more uptight than the one they are cosplaying. _

The blond pulls out your seat for you, grinning back after his brief loss of composure. He idly chatters away and you respond back in the same manner, until he hits the question you knew he was going to ask.

'Where's Kaoru?'

You smile - or, you try to. Your lips are thin and you pause for a moment. Even though you rehearsed your answer, you still stumble.

Out, you state bluntly, with his girlfriend. Mine-chan. Tamaki's eyes seem cloudier in that moment, and then they are bright and blue again, a cheerful yet turbulent sea on a sunny day.

He's still innocent.

Tamaki goes on to talk about them. (They used to be you but you are a group no longer, not together forever.) You knew them so well, but now you are surprised by every piece of knowledge that the Suou heir bestows upon you benevolently.

Hunny-senpai has left the Haninozuka dojo for Chika to run, deciding instead to travel around the world. He has been sampling cakes from around the world and is in the process of starting his own bakery. (You did not know that your cutest senpai is halfway around the world - however, it does not shock you. They all seem so far away.)

Mori-senpai is a lawyer. He has always been interested in jurisprudence (since when?) and attended Tokyo University with his top grades. The stoic man is a well-known lawyer (yet you haven't heard of him) in the higher circles for his prudence and his sheer talent.

Tamaki you know about. It is impossible for you not to, with his face plastered everywhere. Newspapers, magazines, websites, posters. The media use any excuse to show off the blond's visage, along with the face of his rival whom you also knew so well.

Kyouya's and Tamaki's respective companies have come to a truce of a kind, now that they are both in control. (Kyouya's father had a heart attack; Tamaki's decided to return to France to be with his wife.) These two senpai-tachi are the ones you know about the best, yet all you know about them is these few fragments, these little bits of news that anybody on the street could have told you.

_Once upon a time, you are best friends - no, beyond that. The Host Club is entangled with love and camaraderie and _closeness_. You are a family, kept together by something thicker than blood. _

Tamaki stops here, his flood of words dammed by a widening of his eyes as he jumps up from the table abruptly. Hikaru's eyes follow his immediately.

How apt it is that the last member of the Host Club, the one who has not been mentioned, has chosen to make her appearance.

Everything is paused when Haruhi arrives. She is uncommon in her commonness, abnormal in her normalcy. Her mere presence stretches out the seconds and minutes that make up the fabric of time, and when Hikaru looks at her it seems as if he has always been looking.

Even in formal clothes she looks out of place. Her mannerisms are plebeian, her clothes nice but not _nice_. Her smile is that of a commoner's as well, one of somebody who doesn't quite understand the value of the world (in the way that the wealthy assess it).

'Tamaki-senpai!' she says cheerfully, calling across the restaurant (working-class, working-class!) 'Hikaru!' Beside her the waiter is looking flustered (or as flustered as a waiter in a high-class restaurant gets) as the patron he is supposed to be escorting makes her way towards another table to talk with other guests.

It's simply not something that is done.

'Could we pull up a chair?' Haruhi asks - the waiter who followed her now looks like he wishes that he did not. Pull up a chair indeed. But he must oblige the guest, and he murmurs politely, 'Of course, Fujioka-sama. Shall I keep your other table reserved?'

Waving her hand in a careless matter, she replies, 'I'll be there in a moment,' and sits herself down in the chair that has already been brought over. She is smiling in that natural rookie way that has always stuck with her.

It is nice to see another person who has not changed at all.

Why are you here, Haruhi? You ask this with a kind smile back - one that is reminiscent of earlier days.

_It is the last day of the semester - finally out of Ouran high school. Of course you know where you're going from now (where else?) but it is a bit sad to know that a chapter of your life is over._

_But it won't be - not if you don't let it. You feel this with an ardent passion - you won't let high school slip away without a fight. _

_'Hikaru?' Her voice is soft, beautiful, wonderful - the same way that she looks in one of the dresses that you designed. 'Keep in touch, all right?' Haruhi smiles. 'You have my number, after all.'_

_You promise to do so, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Of course I will, you say, laughing. Why wouldn't I? _

'Dinner,' she replies matter-of-factly. 'Isn't that why you're here?'

Before you can continue, Tamaki decides that he is not getting enough attention and pouts. 'No hug for your father?'

Even now he still clings to that childish idea. You snort quietly, and Haruhi gives you a quick, curious glance. But she looks away. (Perhaps she doesn't like the expression on your face, so jaded, so cynical, so alien to her.)

She is still beautiful.

Haruhi sighs and rolls her eye. She says bluntly, 'I'm not your daughter.'

'But-'

'No, senpai.'

The scene is familiar and you find yourself smirking. Tamaki is of course distraught while Haruhi looks as blasé as ever.

Tono, you say, idea striking you, you're still not on Haruhi's contact list, are you? Your tone is joking, the voice of a younger you.

'Actually,' Haruhi cuts in, brown eyes blinking, 'you're not on it either right now, Hikaru.' Before you can ask why the hell not, she says, 'I got a new phone and I lost all my old contacts.'

You pause. Suddenly the room seems too small and you need some air. You stand up - somehow it seems like you are the one who has intruded in this elite group and Haruhi is the one who has unwittingly (you hope it is unwittingly) denied you entrance.

'Hikaru?' Both Tamaki and Haruhi say this at the same time, and their eyes are identical in this instant - full of sincere concern.

It hurts to look at them.

_You are in your own world, separated from everyone else. There is only you and the others. There is no need for them, since you have Kaoru with you. _

_But then he is not there. Disappearing from your grasp, he wrenches himself out. _

_'I'm going to be a poet,' he says to you quietly. He isn't looking at you, as if he knows that one glance at you will shake his resolve too much. 'I haven't told Mother or Father yet, but I think Father already knows.'_

_He tries to grin. 'You'll be fine on your own with the Hitachiin designing company. And of course I'll stay with you.' He doesn't say for how long. _

_He doesn't have to. You already know by now that nothing is forever._

'Haruhi?'

And another voice joins them, an uncertain baritone that makes you think of Mori-senpai - but no. It is not calm enough.

He stands there, a man who is about your age. He has short black hair, brown eyes, average physique, frameless glasses. He's wearing designer clothes, and has a cell phone in his right hand. He is an average man.

Haruhi turns to him, all smiles. The smile is different though - not the natural rookie smile, but something more, something -

Tamaki realises it too, as he gasps. Haruhi looks back to the ex-Host Club president. 'Senpai?'

'You just looked very much like your mother.' Tamaki sounds surprised, and there is a tightness to his voice that you can identify with.

Haruhi smiles again and it is back to the smile you know (knew?).

'This is Yamada Daisuke. He's my husband.'

And then you sit down because you know you will fall if you do not have support.

Tamaki's next words are ones that surprise you - surprise everybody, really, as he shouts them at the top of his voice. 'Congratulations!' He is genuinely happy for them, and he stands up and walks over to them, shaking both of their hands vehemently. 'Why didn't you tell me, Haruhi? I have to give you my blessing!'

As this Yamada stares at Tamaki like he is a very strange insect he turns to Haruhi, looking at her as if to ask, 'Who is this guy?'

'This is Suou Tamaki,' she says, 'and this is Hitachiin Hikaru.' You can see the recognition on the man's face, and you get ready to scowl at him in disgust so that when he starts to fawn over you (like the plebeian he is) you won't have to waste any time.

But he doesn't. He just smiles back and says, 'It's nice to meet you,' politely and to Haruhi, 'Our reservation is waiting, dear.'

'It's our one year anniversary,' Haruhi tells you with a smile. She gets up from the seat and she walks always with Yamada (you will not refer to him as anything else) and the table is silent. The other patrons of the restaurant have already lost interest in your antics when Tamaki speaks up.

'Hikaru.' His voice is small. 'Why - why does it hurt so much? Is this how a father feels when he gives his daughter away?'

And you want so dearly to shatter his dreams. No. That is not how you feel. The reason you feel that way is because you _love her_ and she's been taken by somebody else, and you'll never get to have her - she'll never love you in the same way that she loves that commoner who has nothing, _nothing_ that you have, who is normal in every single way and is not like the two of you, not of the class that you are, not of the quality.

_'We can't both have her, Hikaru!' Kaoru's face is angrier than you have ever seen it. 'Can't you grow up? If you're going to half-heartedly chase after Haruhi you don't deserve her in the first place!' _

But you do not. You walk over to where Tamaki is standing and say with a smirk that doesn't feel right on your face, Why don't you go ask her _real_ father and find out?

And as Tamaki squawks indignantly, his face red, you feel that at least something has gone right for today.

But only for today, because nothing is forever.

-

_It's not realistic, you say with a frown, crossing your arms. Why would__ the prince fall for that commoner girl Cinderella anyway? It's a dumb story._

_Kaoru laughs. He likes it when you get into these moods; he thinks it's funny to see you so worked up over fiction. 'Well that's why it's a fairy tale. Things like that don't happen in real life.'_

_Then I don't see why we're reading about it, you mutter, throwing the English book to the floor in a pique. Screw the English essay that you have to write on it. Kaoru, of course, picks it right back up again and brushes off the cover lovingly. _

_'Well,' he replies, trying to appease you, 'Cinderella's really different from the other girls there. __She's down-to-earth, she's nice, and she likes the prince for who he is, and not for his money.' _

_You shake your head. Also, she wouldn't fit in. Even if she was all dressed up, she wouldn't be like the other people - too plebeian. _

_If I were Cinderella, you say vehemently, I never would've gone back. Why uproot your whole life for a chance at romance? _

_And really, things like that would never work out well in real life. Only fairy tales have happily ever afters. _

_'Well,' Kaoru says with another laugh, 'I'll be sure to tell Cinderella your opinion if I ever get to meet her.' _

-

fin


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